Long into the Abyss, Part 1
by Archos
Summary: HalloweenHorror crossover fic. Nightwing investigates the sudden disappearance of a police detective, and finds himself fighting for his life against a creature of insurmountable evil...
1. Chapter 1

The first rain of October in the Haven fell in a soft pelt, gentle to the skin yet chilled as though borne of a bitter December. With the pad of his thumb, Detective Danville McMikle swiped raindrops from his eyes, turned up the collar on his trench coat, then returned his gaze to the object of his attention. Before him lay a schoolgirl's book bag, the final remnant of the latest abduction victim, the fourth in as many days. On each of the previous three days a missing persons report had landed in the detective's inbox, each from a different sector of town, and none sharing the same traits, other than sudden disappearance. There were no patterns to follow, no forensic evidence to collect, no ransom demands…and no bodies. These people had simply vanished in the night. Seventeen years aboard the Haven's finest had honed McMikle's intuition to a razor's edge, and that intuition spoke ill as it told him this was all going to end badly, tragic to a whole new degree. Behind him, forensic technicians scurried about processing their crime scene, though to a futile end he knew. There was nothing to be found here, no story left to tell, the void. As had happened so many times previous, Detective McMikle felt helpless, and with that, hopeless.

The crime scene itself was near an open field that sprawled behind the Bludhaven School for the Gifted, which sat on the far outer cusp of the city limits, well removed from the trappings of the inner districts. This was the peaceful area within the city limits, where the infection of urban crime and decay had not yet corrupted innocence. Until now. McMikle ambled away from the others to insert a comforting distance between him and the chaos behind. He walked far into the field, letting the din of detective work fall as silent as the rain that moistened him. There, alone on the dark pasture, he succumbed to his one last vice; a Bluegrass brand unfiltered cigarette, with the patented Smooth Blend tobacco. It was a "disgusting habit" as his precocious twelve year old daughter was fond of saying, but he had come to enjoy it over the years, though he would never partake in her presence. And, it helped him to focus, to concentrate on whatever puzzle he would try to noodle. A few moments in isolation would allow his thoughts to form in clarity, so he could then go back with a fresh perspective, perhaps find something new, something overlooked-

_BEEP!_

In an instant McMikle recognized the digital intruder into his thoughts. He eased his hand into his coat pocket and withdrew his department issued cellular phone. Once again he had forgotten to plug the infernal thing in to charge and now the battery was in its twilight. No matter, he scarce used the device anyway, but the annoying little alert tone did grate on his nerves in short order.

_Oh well, _he thought, _just ignore it._

He returned to a drag from his cigarette, then tried to refocus his mind by training his eyes on the tree tops that swayed in the wind on the far reaches of his stare. Soon the environment dwindled to the velvet pelt of the rain on the landscape, his breath expelling smoke from his lungs, and the rhythm of a distant pulse…

_Wait! _His mind instructed, _What…what is that sound? _

McMikle squint his eyes as he began a slow spin around to scan his surroundings. The sound he heard was clear enough, its origin, however, was not. But it was becoming louder, though its beats were farther apart. He continued to spin, unable to pinpoint the source, but whatever it was, it definitely approached. A quick glance back to the others confirmed they were quite oblivious to it, deafened by their own frenetic pursuits. Rote instinct drove him to reach into his coat and draw his sidearm, his finger just inside the trigger guard. The sound was very close now, close enough that he thought he recognized it.

_Wings!_

The impossibility of it incited a nervous chuckle, for wings big enough to create that noise would have to be attached to a pterodactyl, he reasoned. Even so, he brought his gun to the ready and listened. Each pulse was closer than the one before it, but still nothing, there was nothing out there! He looked up, but could not see for the rain that fell into his eyes. He blinked over and over to dispel the water, to no avail. And still the sound got closer. The sound became echoed by his own heartbeat in his ears. His throat tightened, his breathing shallowed, and that _thing _kept coming. He turned to his fellow officers and yelled for somebody, anybody to listen, yet his pleas fell unheard. His finger now curled around the trigger, but his target eluded him, he had nothing at which to take aim. His blood thundered in his ears, his chest heaved while his heart hammered within its confines. He called again to his comrades, this time his voice louder, filled with urgency laced with fear. Still they heard nothing. His calls evolved into screams while the pulse of wings roared down upon him…

And then he saw it.

For no more than a second, but in that one second a lifetime of terror burned through his veins like vitriol. A dark, merciless face with a mouth that sheathed rows of sharp teeth, and two empty sockets where eyes should rest, portals to infinite darkness. His vision was brief, but the pain he all at once felt surge in his body seemed eternal. A final scream choked in his throat, his head careened back at an unnatural angle, allowing one last look at the ground, and his unaware partners below. Sharp burning talons seared through his flesh and caused black patterns to occlude his sight. Vertigo swept over him as his body was hoisted away like a child's toy into the thick blanket of the night sky.


	2. Long into the Abyss Part 2

**The usual standard disclaimers apply.**

**I don't own any of the characters.**

**This was written for fun, not profit.**

October 30

"Ladies and gentlemen, quiet please.

Ladies and gentlemen.

All right now, quiet!

Thank you.

I'll of course skip over the parts about why we're here, we all know too well why. It's a difficult time for everyone on the department, but especially for those of us tasked with this, for lack of a better word, investigation. This is the type of thing every supervisor dreads, and thus far I've been lucky enough to never have been faced with it. Bear with me if I become distracted or maybe even emotional. It's been a train wreck of a day.

Each of you is here at my personal request to your immediate supervisors. The detective bureau is already spread woefully thin concentrating on the rash of missing citizens, not even counting the day-to-day cases piling up on our desks. We're now filtering out all but the most involved reports, and returning the lesser offenses back to the originating officers for follow up. Agency resources are being consumed at an unprecedented rate, so time is of the utmost essence. Especially now that one of our own appears to have become a victim. You uniformed officers are now attached to this major case squad as investigators. You now answer directly to me and my command staff, and you are here until the case comes to a resolution. I have chosen each of you based on performance evaluations, recommendations from your superiors, and my own personal experiences with you. Thank you for stepping up to this most daunting of tasks.

Enough of the formalities. Twenty-nine years on the job and I've never seen anything like this. Detective Danville McMikle, while on scene investigating the apparent abduction of a child from the area of the School for the Gifted, went missing from that same scene at approximately twenty-two thirty last night. Each table has a copy of the case file with all relevant up to the minute information, so if you would all look through the files as I speak…

McMikle was primary on that case. He was confirmed on scene at twenty-two ten, and spoke to several technicians after arrival. Around twenty-two thirty a back up detective went looking for McMikle, but never found him. Subsequent radio checks by on scene officers and dispatch were unanswered. Secondary Detective Laura Kottmann searched the immediate area for McMikle, but initially located only his unit, dash light still activated. Dispatch had no record of McMikle signing off from the scene. A pattern search of the area turned up McMikle's footprints heading out into the adjacent field where they suddenly stopped and never started again. Found at that spot were McMikle's issue, hammer cocked, safety off, and a partially smoked Bluegrass brand unfiltered cigarette, McMikle's smoke of choice. Refer to your files for a complete list of findings regarding his disappearance. So far we have been unable to determine just exactly how he left, or was taken, from the area. Preliminary inquiries with family and friends have turned up nothing, but I expect you to re contact and dig deeper. Take your time with them, they're still in shock, but be thorough. What seems unimportant to them may be the difference, literally, between life and death. Ask questions, think outside the box and remember every piece of information, regardless of how small, is to be followed up on. Dog them to their conclusion. Any questions, call me or one of my command staff, twenty-four seven.

Everyone, utilize your informants. Dig up your old ones, squeeze the current and flip new ones. A veteran detective doesn't just disappear without somebody somewhere knowing something. I want to know what they know.

As I said, this situation is unprecedented in the history of Bludhaven. Some of you are probably aware of McMikle's personal issues, his ongoing battle with depression and so forth. However, and I can not stress this enough, we are not looking at McMikle as a suspect, period. There is absolutely zero evidence the McMikle was in any way involved in criminal activity in regards to the abduction he was investigating, so until God himself stands on my head and hands me stone tablets proclaiming McMikle's guilt, the man is a victim and will be treated as such. Make sure you are more than clear about that with any media contacts you have.

Dan McMikle worked nine years in my detective bureau and was the model of a brilliant investigator. It was often rumored that he would one day replace me as Chief of Detectives and I would proudly hand the title to him when the time came. I've broken bread with this man and his family at their dinner table and we have put away our fair share of brew out on Sheffield Heights. He is a friend as well as a colleague and deserves nothing less than a concerted, superhuman effort to find him, and find him well. I know a fair number of you are also friends with him, so I trust your focus and determination.

Particularly you, Officer Grayson, I'm aware of your close relationship with McMikle. It had occurred to me that you might be too close to be properly involved in this case, but I'm equally aware of your integrity and work ethic and am confident you will perform with the highest regard for professionalism and competency.

That's all I have for now. Get out there and find him, ladies and gentlemen…bring him home. You and your partner stay together, stay in contact with me or my command staff, and most of all stay safe. No telling what the hell is out there.

Godspeed to you all.

Dismissed."


End file.
